


Ascended Spirits

by In_love_with_writing002



Series: When Buttercups Wither Verse [3]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Ghost! Jaskier, God! Jaskier, Gods and their interactions, Mother Melitele
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:40:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24730198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_love_with_writing002/pseuds/In_love_with_writing002
Summary: A few years after Jaskier's death and becoming a god, he meets a new face.
Relationships: Jaskier & Gods, Jaskier & Humanity, Jaskier & Witchers
Series: When Buttercups Wither Verse [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1787980
Comments: 14
Kudos: 501





	Ascended Spirits

**Author's Note:**

> It was pointed out to me (by me) that most gods know each other and Jaskier, after achieving god status, would end up meeting the other gods. So I guess here’s something for that??

Jaskier is following Vesemir around his little town in Kaedwen when a tug in his form makes him turn his head. Usually, this means a direction to go in, a Witcher who needs help. He gives a goodbye to Vesemir by putting a hand on his shoulder, which with his accumulated strength, Vesemir notices the friendly pat. “Didn’t know you were here, Jaskier.” Jaskier doesn’t hear much of it, focused on the pull. It’s from the fountain, he realizes, and leans into the tug with a smile, closing his eyes and manifesting there instead.

“Oh!” Jaskier sees a woman looking into the fountain, a hand on the edge. He wonders why he was pulled here. The woman is aged, dressed in robes. They are elegant and they suit her well. Perhaps it’s the material of her robe she wants to look nicer? Jaskier hasn’t quite gotten the hang of turning other metals pure, but the gold trimming seems simple enough. “Alright, let’s see here,” Jaskier leans in to brush his hand over her robes—

“Don’t touch me, boy-god.” She barks. Jaskier reels, leaning away. The woman turns, and suddenly she’s staring at Jaskier— her eyes are a fiery shade of pink. Jaskier clears his throat.

“You’re a mage, then?” He asks. The woman scoffs.

“How did a ghost go about gaining a following large enough to become a god?” She asks, running her hand over the silver fountain. Jaskier chuckles nervously.

“I’m not sure I understand it either,” he admits. He looks over the woman’s features, and his eyes widen. He recognizes the symbol on her earrings from decades in his lifetime, from years of muttering her name in frustration or fear or exasperation. “Forgive me if I’m wrong my dear, but you _are_ a mage, right? I’ve been dead for a few years now, but I’m quite new to this.” The woman laughs, and Jaskier can hear so many sounds inside of it— it makes his head spin.

“Stupid boy-god,” she tuts, and Jaskier has just enough self-respect to not react— “You know who I am.” Jaskier feels like he’s trembling in his metaphysical but stylish boots.

“Melitele.” The woman smiles at him. “But... I’ve never seen another... how— why...” Jaskier has so many questions, and Melitele’s wizened face offers wisdom.

“The others ones call me Mother,” she says. “Though you’re an unusual one, aren’t you, boy-god?” Melitele holds a regal air to her that makes Jaskier want to fall at her feet. “You ought to as well. Easier to fit in.” Jaskier tilts his head slightly as a question.

“Fit in? Who am I fitting in with? Er, mother.” He adds when she raises a brow.

“The other gods, of course,” she says, like it’s obvious. “You’ll have to now. They should find you soon if they aren’t too busy stirring up more trouble in the south.” Jaskier still feels floored by the interaction. It must be his human instincts, but he wants to impress, wants to grovel, wants to please her and worship at her feet. “Yes, I think they’ll be along shortly. You haven’t quite gained the power to see them yet, but it comes with time and worship.” It answers some of Jaskier’s unsaid questions at least. Why he looks young to Yennefer again, how he’s gained power over the years. Jaskier wants to learn more, and his hand itches for a notebook— Can gods write?

“I have so many questions,” Jaskier says honestly. Melitele puts a hand on his face, and it is a comfort he didn’t expect to want, the simplicity of touch from someone who _sees_ you. Maybe he’s been a ghost for too long.

“You’ll learn with time,” she assures and lowers her hand. Jaskier feels a pull suddenly, a faint tug from somewhere far away. A Witcher needs help. “Looks like you’re needed,” she says before Jaskier can apologize for leaving. Her pink eyes are burning a little brighter.. “Go on, boy-god.” For the first time since his death, Jaskier feels seen. He feels acknowledged, that what he’s doing is worth it. He nearly laughs, realizing this must be what the people he helps feel like. Recognized. Valued. But necessary.

“Goodbye, mother,” Jaskier says, giving a little bow.

“I’m never far, boy-god,” she scoffs. Jaskier doesn’t really get what that means, but he’s not really thinking about that, he’s too focused on finding Coën by the sea, where he is struggling with a siren.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me and this verse on Tumblr as [In-love-with-writing002](https://in-love-with-writing002.tumblr.com/)


End file.
